How It Began
by Witchspell
Summary: SHORT STORY SERIES: Blizzard left a lot of gaps in the lore that is Overwatch. What actually happened to Widowmaker? Where did Tracer go when she blinked out of existence? How did Winston become the smart ape he is today? Why is there such bad blood between Reaper and McCree? Is Mercy truly the good-hearted doctor we perceive her to be? Find out in How It Began. Some pairings.
1. Amélie: A la vie, a la mort (Part 1)

Amélie: _A la vie, a la mort._ **(Life, Has Died) Part One**

Gérard flashed a bright smile as he walked through Watchpoint: Gibraltar, his golden skin glistening with sweat from the heat, heading towards Torbjörn's workshop. Gérard, Reinhardt, and Ana recently finished tracking down a Talon hitman in Dorado that had dragged him into an empty alleyway and attempted to choke him to death while he was on his way to rendezvous with his fire team, and _convinced_ him to tell them where the other operatives were hiding out (however, the said hitman eventually led them right into a fucking trap). Thrown into an extremely loud gun/hammer/sniper rifle fight with about 25 Talon operatives, he had jammed his beloved sniper rifle while reloading in a hurry, getting shot at by some snot-nosed kid who had _just_ learned how to shoot a gun, and he put the bullet in some important place on the rifle and not in the clip, almost blowing his own face off with his next shot. Reinhardt had to charge the kid into a wall just to save his ass.

Sniper in hand, Gérard nudged the workshop door open to find Amélie and Torbjörn looking over some blueprints-possibly for the miniature man's prototype, a sniper rifle that can also change into an automatic. Brilliant, that man is. Gérard cleared his throat, Amélie was the first to turn around, startled. He smiled and so did she and without warning ran into her husband's arms. Gérard couldn't help but drop his gun to hug her back, she was always so worried about her husband, knowing how he's in charge of the Talon missions and how Talon is dead-set on wanting him dead. Whenever he comes back from a mission in one piece, she feels relieved. "You're back," Amélie sighed, her arms still wrapped around the Overwatch sniper's neck. Gérard lifted his wife off her feet, and spun her, laughing.

"Yes, I'm back."

Amélie blushed as her husband touched their noses together, their faces drew closer before a loud cough interrupted them. The couple turned to find Torbjörn with his arms crossed, one foot tapping the concrete below him. "Sorry Torb." Gérard laughed and picked up his rifle and brought it to Torbjörn with a look that let him know _"I fucked it up again."_ , Amélie stepped back and watched intently as the Swedish blacksmith looked over her husband's weapon. The Ironclad man sighed in annoyance, glaring up at his friend while he stood beside him. " _Du kan inte göra något rätt, kan du?_ " Although the French man did not know exactly what his Swedish friend was saying, he knew it was an insult and beamed proudly. Torbjörn rolled his eyes in response and turned his attention to the jammed rifle that almost killed his idiot teammate. Within 5 minutes the stubborn bullet was plucked out and Gérard's rifle was as good as new, and the builder ushered the couple out the door to work on his prototype before he jammed another gun. "Love you too Torb!" Gérard called out while he was kicked out of the workshop and onto the Watchpoint's walkway.

Amélie looked at her husband and giggled, he never failed to annoy the smaller man. "Shall we go to bed?" She asked, taking his rough hand in her delicate one. Gérard kissed his wife's forehead and ruffled her jet black hair, "You go on ahead, _mon chéri_ , I have to fill Jack and Reyes in on the mission. I'll be in soon." Amélie nodded and kissed him on the cheek before heading towards their mini-apartment.

* * *

 _The sun seems to beam brighter on our side of the world_ , Amélie thought as she down the hill to the tiny apartment she and her husband were stationed in since they moved to Gibraltar. The teal waves crashed against the lighthouse floating in the middle of the ocean, just a few miles from the base-Amélie and Gérard would have picnics in the small field of grass overlooking the sunset and just close their eyes, listening to the water and seagulls, the sun hot against their skin, and she would feel so _alive_ with him. Lost in her memories, Amélie bumped shoulders with a staff member and knocked her papers to the ground.

"Oh _mon Dieu_! I'm so sorry, I'm so clumsy!" The taller French woman scrambled to help the young woman with her things, apologizing profusely as the intern laughed nervously, telling her it was completely fine.

"It's okay, really! I lost count on how many times I've dropped these same papers since they were given to me," The young raven-haired woman smiled. Amélie tucked her hair behind her ear before handing the rearranged documents back to the woman, and gave an apologetic smile, turning to continue her journey home.

"...Amélie Lacroix, right?"

The slender woman turned back to the young woman who called her full name, obviously she knows who she is. But _why_? She's nothing but the wife of an Overwatch agent, nothing more, nothing less. "Yes?" Her delicate voice barely echoed in the enormous base. She's heard from Jack that the acoustics in the middle of the Watchpoint are amazing, he recommended coming to hear him play his guitar to hear for herself. The young intern bowed and Amélie stifled a chuckle, _how formal of her_.

"I'm Vanessa Kim, and I was instructed by Mr. Morrison to tell you that he'd like to see you in the meeting hall." Amélie stiffened visibly and Vanessa noticed. She elaborated, "Said it was important and everyone else is also to report there. I'll walk you there if you'd like?" The young Korean woman tilted her head and gave a sweet smile, and her smile was so reassuring, when she smiled it made Amélie feel like there was nothing to worry about.

Amélie smiled back, "Sure."

As the two women walked towards the mess hall, the sun began to slowly set. The two talked about how Vanessa transferred from the base in Seoul, South Korea to Gibraltar and how different it was from Asia. Amélie told Vanessa of her travels across the world as her husband carried out his tasks as a Talon agent. "Isn't that dangerous...?" Vanessa's gaze was anxious as Amélie chose her words wisely. After all, she was just an intern, she couldn't disclose much information because her husband didn't tell her much to begin with. She sighed as the thought crossed her mind, _Oh how I wish he'd truly talk to me_ , she thought.

Amélie looked at Vanessa, eyes searching for sincerity before she spoke, "It's not that dangerous." She lied. "He's careful, as long as he always comes back from his priorities, I'm okay with what he does." She lied again. A forced smile graced her soft features and Vanessa gave a hesitant smile. "The way I see it," Amélie started, "I'd rather my husband contribute to helping others, rather than being one of the people living through this Crisis, with no help." The young intern held the door open as they finally arrived at the meeting hall. Amélie walked through first, Vanessa trailing behind her.

* * *

As she finally stepped through to the Overwatch-stamped round table in the white-illuminated room, there was no sound, no meeting, no people. _Maybe everyone is late?_ She thought as she walked into the center of the room. The room was so pristine and white it always seemed brand-new, like everything in the room was shipped in from the cleanest place possible. Amélie had never been in this room, as she was not a true member of Overwatch (unlike her husband), and she had no need to listen in to the team's meetings-it almost felt criminal to step on such a clean floor. Amélie was broken out of her stupor when she heard the short heels of Intern Kim behind her. The French woman's brow furrowed as she surveyed the room.

No one was there.

No one but her...and Vaness- "Hello, Amélie."

A deep, dark voice came from the pitch black darkness behind her. Only the giant Overwatch symbol printed in the center of the floor was lit, no other light in the room. The soft hum of the lights only confirmed the fact that there was truly no meeting. _Of course_ there wasn't, if there were one she would have heard Reinhardt's deep voice booming a few steps back. Amélie cursed her naivety, Gérard had warned her once about her easy trust. She sucked in a breath as Vanessa's heels drew closer, then a hand on her shoulder, spinning her around.

Whoever the voice belonged to, she could not see him. Or her? Or _it_...

"Who are you?" Amélie tried to steady her voice, she had to be strong. She felt foolish, staring into the abyss yet speaking directly to it.

The mysterious entity ignored her question, "What do you fear the most?"

Amélie hesitated. "If you lie...I will know. So choose your next words wisely." It warned. The subtle threat made the blood coursing through her veins run cold, and she forced the bile in her throat back down.

"When I was a girl...I had a fear of s-spiders." Amélie stuttered.

A dark, sadistic chuckle. "Spiders. How childish." At that same moment, the terrifying feeling of spindly legs, and sharp incisors crept up the back of her neck, and Amélie let out a shrill scream and she tried to shake the tarantula skittering over her back and body off.

" **GET IT OFF!** " She screamed, repeating it, even looking towards Vanessa for help (and received a devious laugh in return), yet her torture only endured for forever, it seemed.

Deciding to finally take matters into her own hands, Amélie grabbed and grabbed, becoming more and more frantic as Vanessa, Vanessa who she thought was a decent woman, and this thing/person/God-knows- _what_ began to laugh in unison at her misfortune. Just when she thought she could not take any more, and just wanted it to _stop_ , it did.

The spider was not there. It never was.

Amélie's perfectly coiffed hair was in disarray, everywhere but in place, and she dropped to her knees as her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest. "You see, Mrs. Lacroix," The voice started, "Your fears can come, and they can go. Fear, will always be there. The only thing you can do is fight it-cower and you will be overcome by it. _Conquer_ your fears, and they will obey."

A sudden sharp feeling pierced the back of Amélie's neck, and her lids felt as if cinder blocks weighed them down. She placed her hand over the back of her neck, just as searing pain flashed through her and she let out a blood-chilling wail, crumbling to the floor. Her skin felt so cold, the pain was intense enough to render her speechless, all she knew was pain. Before she fell unconscious, she heard the voice one last time, "Gather her, take her to the base. I'll be there. Awaiting your return."

The French woman's head hit the ground with a hard thud, and Vanessa Kim bent to scoop her into her arms. The small Korean woman was stronger than she appeared to be. "I will be there in 12 hours. Then we proceed as discussed," Vanessa informed.

"Good." The voice replied.

 **Elle sera de retour, mais elle ne** ** _sera_** **vraiment?**

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Hello and thank you for reading the first chapter of How It Began, Widowmaker/Amélie's story arc, and I hope you enjoyed it! This collection of short and multi-chapter stories will be filling the gaps that Blizzard left in Overwatch's lore, and I will be taking it upon myself to use both canon and non-canon elements from the animated shorts and comics to create the rest of the universe and flesh out the heroes that you know and love. I will be choosing a random hero each week to re-write their history and keep as much dry humor and personality in the characters while also adding human experiences and emotions, sometimes dark elements will also be present. Although Overwatch is Rated T, I will be writing vulgar language and graphic violence into my story, and will be rated M, so if you're a child don't tell your Mom.

 **LANGUAGE GUIDE**

"Du kan inte göra något rätt, kan du?"

"You can't do anything right, can you?"

"...Mon chéri."

"My dear."

"Oh mon Dieu!"

"Oh my God!"

"Elle sera de retour, mais elle ne sera vraiment?"

"She will return, but will _she_ really?"


	2. Amélie: A la vie, a la mort (Part 2)

Amélie: _A la vie, a la mort._ **(Life, Has Died) Part Two**

The loud jangling of keys was the only sound throughout the entire apartment as Gérard unlocked the door. He was so tired and sore, all he wanted was a nice hot bath with his lovely Amélie, as was their usual routine. Not paying attention, he bumped into some unknown yet pointy surface, and pain surged through his arm. "Shit," He cursed, what was supposed to be the living room was replaced by nothingness, and Gérard slapped the wall beside him for the light switch. When he turned it on, he hoped to see Amélie on the couch, waiting for him. But she wasn't.

Scratching his thick head of chestnut hair, Gérard searched every room in confusion. "Mon chéri?" The French man called out. No answer. It was almost 2 in the morning, she wouldn't ever stay out this late. Something had to be wrong. Gérard pulled out his phone, dialing her cellphone. Straight to voicemail. His heartbeat quickened as Gérard began to panic. _Where is my wife?_ He thought. _I know she walked to the apartment, I saw her head that way!_ Grabbing his jacket and rushing out the front door, he sprinted back towards Jack's.

Large fists pounded on the steel door, frantic and desperate. " **JACK!** JACK, I need your hel-" Gérard's yelling was cut short when the door opened and Jack Morrison's tired and agitated face glared down at him.

" _What?_ You were just here did you leave something?" Everyone knew not to wake Jack before he was ready to be awoken.

"I-It's my wife, Amélie," Gérard, still worried and still confused, tried his best to keep his cool as he explained. "I saw her walk towards our apartment this afternoon, but when I got there from the briefing she was nowhere to be found. She's always home, or she would call and let me know if she was going out."

Jack's hard expression softened. "Are you sure she's not hanging out with Angela?" Dr. Angela Ziegler was a field medic and miracle-worker on their team, Amélie and Angela sometimes went for small walks together for pastries and coffee and other girly things that Gérard knew nothing about.

The out-of-breath husband sighed, " No, she would have said so before she left Torb's workshop, she said she was going back to the apartment and I said I'd meet her there after the briefing. She's not there..."

The young blond was already done getting dressed by the time Gérard was finished speaking, and as he holstered a small but effective Desert Eagle pistol, he looked up at his friend and teammate. He felt for him, the usually confident man looked anxious and sad, nothing like how Jack knew him to be.

"Don't worry Gérard. We'll find her."

* * *

The ground was cold, her head was pounding and the back of her neck stung something fierce.

 _Where...am I?_ Amélie thought. She struggled to open her eyes, lids glued together with dried adhesive from her tears. After a few moments both of her eyes finally cracked open, a couple of her eyelashes ripping off as she cleaned her eyes from the caked up muck. Amélie sucked in a breath as she was faced with a bright white room, four walls exactly. A single white metal bed was tucked neatly to the left side of the room, a change of clothes (apparently for her) folded on the blanket. A desk and chair was to the right, and a single reinforced metal door stood menacingly in front of her. The delicate woman gulped, and ran a hand through her sweat soaked hair. She made a face, disgusted with her current lack of hygiene and was met with a strong sense of confusion. How long had she been laying here?

"What _happened_?" Amélie whispered to herself. She briefly heard the sound of heels clicking loudly on the hallway floor, and then the door opened. Amélie gave a surprised gasp as Vanessa walked through, a wooden clipboard in hand, her hair tied up in a tight bun. She had the nerve to come back. Amélie glowered, she wanted so badly for her hair to be out of her face, it irritated her to no end. She always had her wild raven locks in a ponytail.

"Hello, Ms. Lacroix," Amélie's skin crawled as the Korean woman said her last name. _Oh my god_ , she thought. _Gérard!_ Panic crept up her throat like a thousand beetles, each one fighting to be free. _Oh no._ It's almost there. The panic came closer and closer until Amélie felt hot and suffocated.

She heaved, and finally, vomited right on the floor. After what felt like forever, Amélie caught her breath and willed her stomach to cooperate. Vanessa sighed, and scribbled something on the clipboard she held with a pink ink pen.

"Are you done?" The 'intern' asked, exasperated and completely unsympathetic. Amélie glared, and nodded slowly. "There is someone who would like to speak with you, come quickly please."

"Who?" Uncertainty sat in the pit of Amélie's stomach. The question was left unanswered.

* * *

A short walk down the dimly lit hall was all it took to reach the ominous freight elevator. Amélie swallowed a glassful of fear as her brown eyes darted to her side, looking for any way to escape and finding none, and Vanessa pulled the rusty gate to the right. As Amélie and her captor(?) walked into the untrustworthy elevator, Amélie closed her eyes. _Take a deep breath Amélie. Wherever you're at, wherever you're going, you will find your way out. You have to. This is obviously an inside job_ , Amélie thought, someone wanted her for a reason.

After a short while, her eyes opened.

And her sights were met with a dark elevator full of black widow spiders, their crimson backs glowing, almost entrancingly, deadly even. Amélie sucked in a scream, slowly backing up, until the backs of her feet collided with the cold metal gate. The thousands of tiny red eyes gathered, swarming towards her. Her mind was frantic, her heart pounding as she let out a blood-curdling scream, scrambling to the other side of the elevator, squeezing her hands against her ears as tight as she could. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for pain, but, it never came.

 **What?**

Her heavy breaths were the only sound she could hear over the blood pounding in her eardrums. _What the hell...?_ Amélie opened her eyes slowly re-adjusting to the dim lights of the elevator. The spiders that were seconds away from tearing the skin from her very bones, were no longer there. It was just her...and Vanessa. The back of her neck suddenly surged with a electrifying heat so intense that it felt as if her skin was on fire, she gasped grabbing the area, and when she pulled her hand away deep red blood followed with it. _Was that...hallucination...connected to what Vanessa stuck me with at the base?_ Amélie thought.

Vanessa stood before her with a quizzical, yet curious look on her face. "Are you alright?"

"W-where's all the spiders? The black widows! They were everywhere. Where did they _go_?" She sounded like a crazy woman, pale and panting, she had to have looked like she'd lost it. Vanessa shook her head and gave a small smile, "What do you mean? There's nothing here, but me, and you, Ms. Lacroix."

Something about her tone did nothing to reassure the worried French woman, and the elevator finally stopped on what seemed like the top floor of whatever building they were in. Vanessa held out a hand, "After you." Amélie stepped out, her feet hitting clean chestnut carpet, a complete contrast to the dingy room she was being held in.

"Where are you taking me?" Amélie demanded, her voice quivered but her determination did not. Vanessa side-eyed the older woman, her jet black bob was cut perfectly, Amélie had noticed, as if the sharpest blade shaped it. She smiled that sly smile again, Amélie hated it-she quickly found out it always meant something bad was going to happen. "What was that back there? Was that a hallucination?" Amélie's delicate voice was stripped raw from her petrified screams in the elevator, her voice raspy and barely noticeable. Vanessa's round almond eyes glinted with a hidden agenda, Amélie was flustered, but not blind. What did this mysterious spy have in store for her? Was this Talon? _Sacré merde_ , Amélie's eyes widened as she finally realized, her horrified gaze watery, a hand to her lips.

 _They've come for Gérard._ She was the closest person to him, the only family he had; almost all of their kin were back in France, and God knows how terrible the war made it over there. _They're going to hurt him...by hurting me._ Amélie sucked in a breath as the woman yanked her from the cold concrete by her arm, dragging her down the crimson-washed hallway. A single light with a red bulb hung from the ceiling, creating an eerie ambiance and making Amélie's skin crawl. The only sound she could hear was Vanessa's short heels clicking against the shiny black floor, it looked as if they were being swallowed whole into some deep, dark abyss.

They finally reached the end of the hallway, it looked as if they were on an office floor of some sort and they were on their way to get verbally abused by their superior. But all of the lights were off except the one Amélie had noticed before, and no 'employees' were there. Just the terrifying mystery of the person behind the door and the two women. A single bead of sweat made it's way down Amélie's back, tickling and chilling her all at once, a terrible combination. She grit her teeth as she felt anxious, nervous. Vanessa turned to her, "Are you ready to become the woman you never knew you wanted to be?" Amélie's face contorted into a confused mess, the taller French woman shaking her head.

"I like who I am. Let me go, now," Amélie's frail voice quivered. "Please?" Maybe if she played polite, she would be able to go. Her inner self scoffed. She doubted it.

Vanessa smiled, her white teeth washed in red in the light. She looked at the helpless woman, "Sorry. Orders are orders." Her small, perfectly manicured hand knocked on the large double doors, there were no windows so Amélie couldn't sneak a peek inside.

Such a small hand, but such a loud bang. The sound against the doors echoed throughout the empty hallway and Amélie jumped. " **COME IN**."

As Amélie walked through the door, she felt as if she were walking through an entirely different dimension; as if time and space had wrapped itself around her in a deep darkness and dragged her into another room. She hadn't noticed that she had her eyes closed the entire time as she walked inside, and Amélie finally opened them when Vanessa's hand pushing her through the door in the small of her back was no longer there and her feet had stopped moving.

Her eyes wandered around the dimly lit room, she could make out statues and leather couches, and a large figure sitting in a chair behind a desk in the middle of the room. _Is that whoever is behind this?_ Amélie thought. Her mouth moved faster than her mind, "Who _are_ you?"

The deep voice chuckled, low and monotone. "My dear Amélie," The voice laughed.

"You will soon learn who I am."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

My God do I procrastinate a lot. I initially planned for this chapter to be up by Monday, but since I'm lazy, it went up Friday. I hope you enjoyed it, this may be a couple chapters longer than I expected. Please, leave comments!


	3. Amélie: A la vie, a la mort (Part 3)

Amelie: _A la vie, a la mort._ **(Life, Has Died) Part Three**

Over the course of the next few weeks, Amélie was subjected to a series of tests. Physical, mental, emotional tests, tests made to break her will and diminish her humanity. Tests to make her into a heartless shell of a woman, a husk completely empty and ready to be filled with any matter-good or bad. Amélie had yet to see this mystery man's face, she only knows him by voice. That venomous voice, his voice had the power to make anyone do anything he wanted. Even the person with the strongest will could be worn down to nothing.

Despite her fragile appearance, Amélie held her own.

But not for long.

* * *

"Are you ready, Miss Lacroix?"

A heavy pant, the sound of saliva being spat onto the concrete floor. A single dim light hung above the two, while silence hung in the air. Amélie sat in the center of the room, strapped so tight to a steel chair that her wrists were beginning to bleed from the restraints, as Vanessa paced around her with that _fucking_ clipboard held to her chest. Amélie was mentally exhausted, she had no idea how long she had been held captive so far, or if Gérard was even coming for her. She closed her eyes tightly, cursing herself for letting the doubt cross her mind. _He's coming,_ Amélie thought. _He has to be._

Out of the corner of her eye, Amélie saw the small Korean woman pull out the small button she had been pressing non-stop for at least an hour now. "Please," Amélie pleaded. "No more." Her voice was raw from screaming, trying to appeal to her current oppressor, but her pleading resulted in nothing but failure. Vanessa blinked, watching her prisoner with a close eye.

"Are. You. Ready?" She repeated. Amélie couldn't help but feel a twinge of anger at how the younger girl spoke to her. _How dare you hold me against my will, never give me a chance to fight back, and speak to me condescendingly as if you've already won?_

"No." Amélie's voice was the coldest it had ever been, it took Vanessa by surprise, but the young woman quickly regained her composure. Amélie watched in horror as she watched Vanessa's slender finger press the button in her hand as hard as possible, and her brown eyes rolled in the back of her head as what felt like a million volts of electricity surged through her veins.

A pained scream was ripped from the French woman's mouth as her skin felt as if it were on fire. She felt nothing but pain, red alarms going off in her mind, nothing but a bright white light behind her eyelids. Finally, the electric shocks stopped after what seemed like forever, and she heard Vanessa's light chuckle behind her. Amélie's head hung low, saliva dripping from her mouth as she went into shock, and the sound of heels clicking on the floor grew louder and louder as Vanessa stood beside her.

Vanessa bent down to the defeated woman's ear, "You can try to fight it as much as you want, Ms. Lacroix, but we specialize in this kind of thing here. We've broken down presidents, army generals, assassins," A sinister smile slowly appeared on the young girl's cherubic features as she continued. "Even, Overwatch agents." Amélie's eyes opened as she said this, and she lifted her head with all the strength she could muster.

"But I am not a member of Overwatch, I've told you this already so you can _va te faire enculer_!" Amélie exclaimed. Vanessa's eyes narrowed as the two women had a silent stand off.

After a while, Vanessa slowly straightened her back and stood, looking down at the exhausted woman below her. "Your husband is. Correct?"

Amélie brooded, "Why ask questions you already know the answers to?" She spat. A quick yet painful jolt of electricity hit Amélie and she choked up with tears, as the sensation caught her off guard. Cold tears streamed down her cheeks as Vanessa sighed.

" _어리석은 계집_. You will learn how to answer questions when they are asked soon enough. We will make a soldier of you yet. Just you wait. The boss has wonderful things planned for you." Vanessa concluded.

And with that last statement, Vanessa opened the steel door and walked out, leaving Amélie to cry to herself for the thousandth time.

* * *

Gérard held back a sob as he finished his thirteenth beer. Gabriel Reyes sat beside him, nursing a full beer himself, but he had not taken a drink the entire time-he had to make sure his friend was okay. The two men were at the bar a few blocks from their base, the British seas surrounding them. "Hey," A perfectly tanned hand squeezed the grieving man's shoulder comfortingly. "We're going to find Amélie, okay? But drinking yourself into a coma is going to help nothing, G." Gérard sniffled, pushed his brown disheveled hair out of his face and looked at the self-appointed leader of Overwatch and sighed.

"Why didn't Reinhardt let me go with him..." The man lamented. Gabriel chuckled.

"Because look at you! You would go out there charging into anything you possibly could, probably get yourself killed, and then when Amélie comes back you're not even here."

Gérard lifted his bottle to take another gulp and groaned when he found it was empty, beginning to signal the bartender to order another beer until Gabriel slapped his hand down. "Go get some rest. You need it. I'll contact you through your comms when Rein, Jack and Ana get back and I will let you know what he says. But for now, you need to go to sleep before you hurt yourself. Amélie is not gone, we /will/ find her, trust me. We're not Overwatch for nothing." He smiled. Gérard rarely got to see Gabriel smile but when he did, the man was assuring as hell.

Gérard nodded drunkenly, his head bobbing to the side. "When did you become my dad?" He scoffed. Gabriel laughed, "Jack looks more like a father than I do. But don't tell him I told you that."

The taller man helped Gérard get to his feet, and called a cab for him to go back to the base. As Gérard stumbled into his apartment, he couldn't escape the overwhelming feeling of loneliness that filled the air. Amélie brightened his world, she was the light that guided him through tough times and encouraged him to be the best he could. Without her, he felt lost, empty, as if someone had cut him in half and he needed to be whole again. The French young man bit his lip as he walked to the bathroom, disrobing and stepping into the shower. His ears constantly listened for a beep from his communications device, hoping Jack or Gabriel would call him telling him that Amélie was found and that she was safe. But by the time Gérard was done showering and re-dressing, an hour had already passed; and there was no call, no beep.

The sharpshooter sat on the bed he and his wife had shared so many intimate moments on, in silence. His room was completely quiet, devoid of any movement-except for the light streaming from the lighthouse outside the base moving in a circular pattern in the window. Grabbing Amélie's pillow, and holding it to his chest tight, Gérard finally cried that night. "I should have walked you home..." He whispered to nothing but the abyss. "I should have protected you."

Neither Jack nor Gabriel contacted him that night.

* * *

The next few months were torture for Amélie. Her demeanor had changed drastically, her eyes were emotionless and her voice monotone, she did not speak much except for a few sentences. Amélie's body had become more toned, muscular. Her strength had increased greatly, and she seemed indifferent to everything, only following orders, never really having an opinion about anything. Every morning at 5 AM, Vanessa would come to her room and they would go to the basement, where her training would begin. She would then be forced to fight some of the largest agents the organization that Vanessa worked for could offer. And she would always win. Vanessa called her a prodigy and Amélie cared nothing about it.

Amélie was never a good fighter, and she never had reason to become one-but when there are two gigantic hands wrapped around your neck and the crowd surrounding you has no intention to intervene when it becomes too much, you have to do what you must. With a loud grunt Amélie swung her feet up and over the man's head, freeing her neck from his grip and landing behind him,grabbing both of his arms and yanking them upward with such force that both of his shoulders dislocated with a loud pop. The enormous man screamed in a way that quickly changed everyone's view of him, and Amélie threw his arms down with a cold expression. As the man screamed for help on the ground, Amélie looked up at Vanessa who watched from the back, and glared. The woman smiled in response as the door swung open and all who occupied the room fell silent. Amélie looked towards where everyone's attention was directed and her eyes widened.

A tall, slender African-American woman waltzed into the basement, the room looking far too dirty for a person like her. Her skin was a deep chocolate, her curly hair the color of charcoal and her eyes the color of hazelnuts. Her eyes met Amélie's as she walked closer to her, Amélie sucking in a breath. _Who is this woman? And why is every one so quiet? Are they scared of her?_

The woman smiled, her canine teeth looking like fangs, and Amélie's face grew even more perplexed. She wore a pristine white pantsuit, her aura oozed power and her gaze demanded respect. Finally, she stopped right in front of the sweaty, panting woman who had just got done breaking a man's bones. "So, Miss Lacroix," Her voice was smooth like velvet, deep and rich. "We finally meet."

Amélie raised an eyebrow, "I'm sorry but, who are you exactly?"

The mysterious woman smiled again and tilted her head. "I'm the reason you are here, my dear."

In a flash, Amélie's temperature rose to new heights and her heart beat a thousand times per second. _She's the reason I'm here? She gave the order to have me kidnapped and stolen from everyone I have ever loved and known? She is the reason I have turned into the person I am today?_ If looks could kill, the woman before her would be sliced into tiny pieces and ground into dust by now. Amélie seethed as the woman noticed her look.

"Ah, I see. You hate me, that's understandable. But you must know, dear Amélie, that we have a plan to carry out and you are a vital part to it. We _need_ you, Amélie. We need you for something quite important." Amélie only stared as the woman explained, "You are going back to the Overwatch base." The French woman sucked in a breath. _Why would they do all of this and then put me back?_ Deep down, Amélie no longer wished to see her husband again. In the few months that she had been detained, she had grown farther and farther from wanting her old life back. She felt as if she had no purpose other than the orders she's given, the Amélie Lacroix that her old friends and family had known no longer existed.

Vanessa stood beside her boss. "You are going to act as if you were held prisoner, hurt, and sent back with a message to tell all of the Overwatch agents: 'Talon is coming'. You are going to act as if nothing is wrong, as if you learned nothing during your time here, and you are going to get even closer to Gérard Lacroix."

"And then you are going to kill him."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Thank you for continuing to read my trash! Very soon, the important stuff will happen and then I'll move onto another hero's story. Who would you like to see next? Let me know in a comment or message! Does anyone wonder who the mysterious woman is? Well she isn't a canon character, neither is Vanessa, but they both play an extremely important part in my version of Widowmaker's creation.

 **LANGUAGE GUIDE**

_"...va te faire enculer!"_

"Go fuck yourself!"

 _"어리석은 계집."_

"Stupid bitch."


End file.
